


Through The Window

by Biblionerd



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: College AU, Exhibitionism, F/M, Masturbation, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2016-03-17
Packaged: 2018-05-27 05:52:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6272422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Biblionerd/pseuds/Biblionerd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Meg realizes what exactly she can see through her neighbour's open window, she helpfully lets him know. She didn't expect him to take it as a challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through The Window

**Author's Note:**

> As always, many MANY thanks to Becca ([AO3](http://archiveofourown.org/users/formosus_iniquis), [tumblr](http://formosusiniquis.tumblr.com)) for hand holding, thesaurus duty, and plot consultation.

Meg loved sunshine. Her childhood bedroom had faced west so it was always flooded with light in the afternoons, and she was ecstatic when the dorm room she had been assigned her junior year had a big window facing the same direction. From the top floor the other wing of the residence hall didn’t block the light, so her blinds were always open unless she was changing or sleeping.

She arranged the standard issue furniture so that her desk was under the window and she saw out of it from the head of her bed. This afforded her a constant view outside.

It also meant she also saw straight into the rooms opposite hers in the other wing, which were only about twenty feet away across what they called a “courtyard”, though Meg just called it a path. It wasn’t too bad, most people were conscious of the potential audience and closed their blinds when they too needed privacy. She’d witnessed her fair share of room parties, the one guy two rooms over and one floor down who popped out his screen so he didn’t always have to obey the indoor no smoking policy, and had even seen a few of her fellow student’s more amorous moments.

After a few weeks she had nicknames for most of the students she saw regularly. There was Yoga Girl, the Stoner Twins, Mr. Chimney (the guy too lazy to go outside to smoke), and she’d been calling the guy directly across from her room “Rage Dude”. He seemed to have rather...explosive reactions when the game he was playing did not go his way. She couldn’t tell what games he was playing, unfortunately, since the television he played on didn’t face the window. But she saw his controler go flying on the regular.

It took her a while to figure out that he wasn’t similarly enraged at his computer most evenings, and what exactly that rhythmic shoulder movement was indicative of. Meg blushed when she realized, and rolled her eyes at his brazen disregard to his own privacy by leaving the window wide open.

Meg was visiting a classmate when she passed by the other wing’s equivalent of her own room. Thinking of her immodest neighbour, she picked up the dry erase marker taped with a string to the door and wrote a note her friend Gavin would call cheeky, reminding the occupant to think about closing his blinds before making a date with Miss Rosy and her five friends.

*****

Meg had nearly forgotten about the little note she’d left when she noticed a white piece of paper in the window across the courtyard. Unable to read it from her bed, she stood at her desk and squinted to make out the black block letters.

“LIKE WHAT YOU SEE?” 

Meg jerked back in shock, her mouth falling open and a gasp escaping. Apparently he’d received her note.

And, as he proved that evening, did not take her advice seriously.

Meg tore a piece of paper out of her notebook and wrote a note of her own.

*****

She couldn’t help but check after class the next day to see if her note had garnered any response, but the paper still hung in the window that was for once obscured by its blinds.

The next morning the blinds were still closed. Meg figured she’d actually gone too far, and took down her own paper, which had read “CAN’T TELL, ANGLE’S OFF”. She only hoped he wouldn’t go to his RA and complain of sexual harassment.

By the time she made it back to her room that afternoon, the sun was nearly set, leaving barely enough light for Meg to see that there was a different note in the now open window. She squinted and made out the words, “THIS BETTER?”. The room’s occupant was missing, so she wasn’t sure what he meant, but she could now see the television sitting where his desk had been. She grabbed her laptop and sat on her bed, feeling nervous and voyeuristic as she watched out the corner of her eye for the light in that room to go on.

Meg distracted herself by going to have supper with some friends, and by the time she returned her naughty obsession was in his room once more. She could now see that he’d just switched the positions of his television and his desk, and while she puzzled out why, he sat down and opened his computer. It wasn’t until she saw him look out the window to see if she was there and watched him fumble with his pants that she realized she was indeed getting a different angle of his “special time” as she’d requested.

She felt guilty, staring unabashedly as he navigated his computer to his site of choice and leaned back, obviously having found something that suited his fancy. Meg flipped off the lights so she wouldn’t feel so exposed and sat down at her desk, which offered the best view of the window in which her quarry was seated. She wished she’d thought to remember the name that was on his door when she’d warned him about his open window, because it seemed strange to be calling him “Rage Dude” when she was about to watch him jerk off. Should she call him “Naughty Boy” instead? Or maybe something less ridiculous, like John Doe.

Meg had a couple moments to think before the “show” really got started, and she began to doubt herself. Was she really going to watch some guy she’d never met touch himself, even if he had basically invited her? Was she really this excited by the prospect? She slid one open hand between her thighs and squeezed them together, hoping that the pressure would somehow stave off the wave of arousal that was spreading over her. 

Rage Du- er, Naught- er, fuck it, Hottie McJackinOff was partially obscured by the edge of the window and his bed, but Meg could see enough to watch him shift his pants down lower in order to free his cock. It sprung free from his underwear, rocking against his belly, which caused the mystery man to ruck the shirt up a bit, leaving his belly bare. Meg regretted that it would be just a little too far for her to find a pair of binoculars in order to get a better view, because from what she could tell, all of him was a sight to behold.

He began with slow strokes, spreading his thumb over the head before reaching forward for a bottle of something which he dispensed and spread over his erection. Meg thought she caught a flick of his head toward the window, as if he was checking to make sure she was watching, and she hoped he could at least see that she was there with the lights off in her room.

Hottie was definitely aware that someone was watching him, he was putting on a show. Admittedly Meg hadn’t been timing him when she had observed him from the back, and she may have missed out on the subtler movements, but he was drawing this out. His head fell back, curls bouncing with the sudden movement and elongating his neck, making Meg wonder what it would be like to straddle his lap and lick all the way up his neck and nibble on his ear as he stroked himself between her thighs, his hands brushing against her with each movement, and how easy it would be to sink down on him there and ride him slowly-

She gave in to temptation and shoved her hand into her pants, grateful for both the desk and the darkness masking her movements. She watched as the boy across the way sped up his strokes, could see the way his chest rose and fell a little faster as he pushed himself closer to the edge. He slowed down, Meg wondering why he would stop before finishing, but he grabbed the mouse with his less dominant hand and clicked a couple times, apparently having reached the end of whatever video he had been watching. He sat back again and built up to speed, Meg unconsciously keeping pace with her own fingers.

They had been so in sync Meg was almost disappointed when he came before she did, but she could see his cum spilling over his hand and belly. She watched him strip off his tee shirt and clean up as she felt herself finally building toward her own orgasm, finally coming on her hand. 

*****

Meg was day dreaming, standing in line to get her meal card scanned on her way into the dining hall for lunch. Her friends chatted around her, seemingly oblivious to her inattention. She couldn’t stop thinking about that night, about the boy across the courtyard and how deliciously naughty it felt, watching him touch himself while _he_ knew she was watching. She had brought up memories of that night since then, when she was laying in bed with her own blinds firmly shut and her hand between her legs.

She followed her group into the main room, piloting to the pizza without thinking and waiting her turn. After selecting her meal, Meg stepped backward, bumping into someone who was reaching past her. She glanced up at whoever would be that close and stopped dead when she recognized the curly mop of hair and the wide mouth from the boy who had occupied her thoughts.

He smiled wide, jerking his chin toward her in a little nod. Still in shock, Meg smiled and blushed fiercely.

“Come on, dude,” a male voice called, making the boy turn toward it.

“Just gettin’ a fuckin’ breadstick, gimmie a second,” he shouted back, his accent making his voice sound slightly nasal. He turned back to Meg and winked before spinning toward his friend and walking away. He glanced back at her over his shoulder, and she gave a small wave with her free hand, which made him grin again.

Meg reconsidered her self-imposed ban on binoculars. She hadn’t been able to see his freckles from her own room.

*****

She wasn’t sure why, but that night after running into him at lunch, she was sure he’d be at the open window again. She changed, feeling like she should be dressing up for him, even though last time he hadn’t even seen her clearly in the dark. And he’d seen her usual baggy-sweatshirt-and-jeans ensemble at lunch.

Meg was pacing her room, wringing her hands as the anxiousness started to get to her. She had considered telling her friends at lunch after seeing him there, but what could she say? _There’s this guy whose window I look in all the time who jerked off for me and I got off watching_. That would go over like a lead balloon. Her friends weren’t prude, per se, but some of the less common fetishes were just lost on them.

She saw the light turn on out of the corner of her eye and her head snapped to the window, watching him set down his bag and pull his laptop out. Meg could see that he was smiling when he looked up and saw her observing him, and he gave her another nod like he had earlier. 

The boy looked at his watch, then down at the computer screen, before turning back to the window. He touched one finger to his watch, then held up both hands, fingers out. He balled them and flexed them twice more, leaving Meg puzzled for a moment before she realized he’d indicated the number 30. So, he needed thirty minutes before his next ‘performance’. She threw a thumbs up his way and crawled onto her bed with her own computer. Part of her wanted to sit at her desk for a front row seat, but that seemed a little overeager.

Thirty seven minutes later, not that she was counting, she saw the boy stand from his chair and stretch, glancing out the window at her. He smiled when she eagerly moved from her bed to her own desk, leaving her computer shut for an unobstructed view. She left the light on this time, figuring he had seen her up close to there was no need to hide from him now. He knew she was watching, he knew (or at least could figure out) that she enjoyed watching. 

For all his apparent bravado, he hesitated. As Meg leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands, he tried twice to unbutton his jeans and loosen his pants before sitting back down. Meg sat back and watched him navigate the web for more than three minutes, never settling back like he had the other night. He stole glances out the window, still smiling but Meg could tell it was starting to wear thin.

_He needs some encouragement_ , she thought. Grabbing her little speaker, she opened her window and set it down, plugging it into her phone and navigating to the song she had in mind. The boy had opened his window when she did so, and he cocked his head as if trying to hear better. He looked confused as the first beats drifted across the empty space between them, but then threw back his head and laughed when he recognized “Pony” by Ginuwine.

The song had the desired effect, loosening him up a bit. He started thrusting his hips, humping the air and any furniture that happened to get in his way as he threw himself around the room. At the chorus, he stood straight to the window, teasing the hem of his shirt upward with a palm flat against his abdomen, when he stopped short. When Meg cocked her head, trying to puzzle out what was wrong, he pointed at her.

_Me?_ , she mouthed, pointing at herself as well. He nodded, his hand still indicating her as he lifted the hem of his shirt again. Meg finally realized he meant for her to take her own top off. She shook her head, crossing her arms across her chest and blushing, but couldn’t keep the grin off her face. When he nodded at her, pulling his own shirt up again, she lowered her arms, shaking her head in disbelief rather than denial. She couldn’t believe she was about to do this.

First, Meg leaned out the window to make sure there were no other students watching. Then, she restarted the sing; if she was going to do a strip tease, she was going to use the whole damn song. Hottie had turned his chair toward the window and slouched into it, and gestured to her to go on when she hesitated.

Meg began swaying her hips to the beat, punctuated with incrementally pulling up her shirt until she pulled it off over her head, swinging it around before throwing it aside. She ran her hands over her body, still moving in time to the music. She lifted one leg onto her chair, rolling her hips against the back of it. Looking over her shoulder, she could see Hottie playing with his cock through his underwear, and she smiled wickedly. 

She stood on the chair, dropping to a squat while using the back to balance, and rising slowly. Still bent in half with her backside to the window, Meg slid her pants down, revealing her panty covered ass inch by inch. By the time she stepped down and stepped out of the pants, the boy had his cock in hand and was stroking it slowly, in time to the music. 

Meg danced around her room in her underwear, touching herself and rolling her body in every way she thought might look sexy. Facing away from the window again, she undid the front clasp of her bra and let it fall away. Looking over her shoulder, she saw the boy spin his finger in the air, encouraging her to turn around. 

She did, and let her hands fall away. Meg was not shy of her body, she knew what she was rockin was worth the wait, and was rewarded by the look of amazement she could see even from that distance. If she could tell that the pace of the fist covering his dick picked up, she could enjoy the ego boost.

Meg continued touching herself, running her hands through her hair and cupping her breasts. As the song came to a close, she let one hand descend to tease at the waistband of her panties, but as the last notes died away, she pulled the cord and lowered the blinds suddenly.

Through the still open window she heard an agonized cry of frustration.

*****

The next say Meg was still riding the high of her first foray into exhibitionism. She wore her prettiest underwear, her favourite skinny jeans, and a secret smile every time she thought back on it. 

It was too much to hope for a repeat performance the next day, right? The thrill of it would get old if they indulged in their little tit for tat. Best to wait a few days.

Even so, she kept an eye out her open window while she sat at her desk finishing up an essay. When she saw the flicker of movement as he entered his room, she gave into temptation and slid the lid of her computer closed. He grinned, dropping his bag and stepping toward the window as Meg stood and stretched, returning his smile. 

As if they had coordinated it, they reached for the hems of their shirts simultaneously, stiripping them off in unison. The boy was reaching to undo his belt when he paused and looked at his watch. Meg’s smile fell when he held up one finger, a plea for her to _hold on_ on his lips before he spun around and exited his room.

Meg sulkily picked up her shirt and pulled it back on. Perhaps every day was a bit too soon, if there was something better he had to rush off for.

She was just getting back into her essay when she heard a frantic pounding on a door near hers, hard enough for her to pop her head up and listen closely to find out what was so urgent.

“Sorry, wrong room!” she heard a muffled voice call. A moment later the same frantic pounding began on her own door.

Meg stood and pulled the door open. The boy from the other wing was standing there, breathing a bit hard, his hair a mess and his shirt on backwards.

“Hi,” he said breathlessly, his grin wide and his eyes shining. “I’m Michael.”

Meg smiled back, “Hello Michael. I’m Meg.”

Michael stuck his hands in his back pockets and rocked back on his heels. “So, uh-”

Meg reached out the door and grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him into her room. Their mouths crashed together as they stumbled further into the room, letting the door closed behind them. Michael pressed Meg against the desk, nearly bending her over backwards.

Meg pulled away briefly, turning her head as Michael’s lips moved to suck on her neck. She twisted against him, reaching for the cord at the edge of the window and letting the blinds fall.

“Let’s just make sure we don’t have any nosy neighbours getting their jollies off by perving on a private moment,” Meg commented, earning a hearty laugh from Michael before their mouths met once more.

**Author's Note:**

> It occurred to me about half way through this that it could be really REALLY interesting if there was someone else, say someone who lived next to Meg, who also got a view of Michael's displays. Could be Gavin (and Lindsay could be Michael's neighbour). Could be Miles. Could be Geoff. 
> 
> Basically there is a lot of potential for expansions of the fic and the relationship. And if anyone wants to write one PLEASE DO. I would love to read other people's ideas! Just tag me or send me a message when you post :)
> 
> As always, come say hi on my [tumblr](http://insert-blank-wood.tumblr.com)


End file.
